


William/Sherlock

by A_Strange_Vessel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, Eventual Fluff, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jealousy, M/M, Reference to the Now-Nonexistent Season 4, References to Addiction, References to Canon, References to Depression, Season 3 AU, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-27 22:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10818042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Strange_Vessel/pseuds/A_Strange_Vessel
Summary: With John Watson around, and with the memories of Victor Trevor, people never really see that there's someone else that Sherlock Holmes really cares about... Someone who'd always been there...





	1. Children

There were two of us called William, so I was Will, and he was Sherlock. Along with Victor Trevor, it was the three of us against the world.

At least, it was in our little pirate games.

For a while.

Then a real enemy arose, and Sherlock's sister started to destroy our little trio.

She snapped and killed Victor.

I remember that at Victor's funeral, Sherlock and I cried on each other's shoulders, wondering why Victor was in the coffin, wondering when he'd be back to finish our pirate game. At the time, Sherlock and I were almost-but-not-quite old enough to understand what happened. (Now that we're older, I still occasionally wonder if I would've been next, had Eurus not been sent away.)


	2. School

Sherlock and I remained close throughout our years at school, when we were at the same boarding school. We'd grown out of our pirate game, sure, but from time to time, one of us would bring it up, remembering our old friend Victor. (Although, I'll admit that "from time to time" became much less frequent the closer we got to leaving school.)

Our closeness, though, grew. We were practically inseparable. There was nothing between us, as people whispered, but I'll admit that sometimes, I wish there had been.

The first time Sherlock made my heart skip a beat was when we were probably fifteen or sixteen, in the library, studying for term finals.

In hindsight, the whole thing sounds so cliche.

Somehow, notebooks and textbooks were knocked from the table and scattered across the floor. We both went down to pick everything up. His hand brushed up against mine. For a moment, I could've sworn Sherlock wanted to kiss me. But he didn't, accidentally smacking his head on the bottom of the table as he tried to get up.

Two things seemed to happen fairly quickly after that: One, I was falling in love with my best friend (but I was too scared to come out), and two, after we'd left school, I had some semblance of a future, when Sherlock's gap year turned into an extended relationship with drugs.

And I wouldn't see him again for years.


	3. Years Later

The only way I'd kept up with what Sherlock was doing after we'd parted ways was through John Watson's blog.

I stopped reading after the post about Sherlock's death.

I... didn't really take the news too well.

Then, one night, after two years, I got a series of odd text messages from a phone number I didn't recognize.

Someone claiming to be Sherlock kept insisting that I meet them at a certain address.

Sense told me not to go there. Two years of grief won out, making me not care about my own safety.

Having nothing else to lose at that point, I went to that address.

It turned out to be a restaurant called Angelo's.

I about broke down when I really did see Sherlock waiting for me at a window seat.


	4. Angelo's

I went in to meet Sherlock. He looked... absolutely stunning.

He was dressed nicely, more so than usual. For a while, that fact didn't register with me because here was one of my childhood best friends, whom I hadn't seen in, what, two and a half decades? And I'd spent the last two of those years mourning his death.

The owner, some connection of Sherlock's, served us himself, bringing out a candle to the table as soon as I sat down. Soon afterwards, he delivered our food. Sherlock had apparently strongly suspected I'd show up, and had ordered for us.

And he even remembered how I like my fettuccine.

Since Sherlock knew the owner, we were able to stay past closing without realizing, catching up on old times.

Over the cheesecake we had for dessert, Sherlock correctly figured that because of my recent bout of depression, I'd lost my job and would soon be out of my flat due to my lack of income.

What Sherlock couldn't figure out was why. He looked so guilty when I told him, "Of course I've been depressed these past two years! First we lost Victor ages ago, and then I thought you were gone, too! Death seemed to be the only way I could rejoin my two closest friends!"

And then Sherlock offered to work something out with his landlady to let me stay with him in his flat, even though John and John's fiancée had moved back into the second bedroom. He also asked me to be his date to the wedding, where he'd be the best man. I agreed.

Sherlock smiled. Then he brushed his hand against mine. I was reminded of that time in the library when we were teenagers. And Sherlock knew it.

He moved his chair closer to mine, leaned in towards me, pulled me towards him, and kissed me. And then I realized why Sherlock went to the trouble of dressing so nicely, having the owner do so many favours for us, and ordering my favorite foods.

This was a date.

Sherlock had gotten the nerve to ask me out on a date, and I'd be going home with him afterwards.


	5. Baker Street

After he took me to gather an overnight bag with a few things for the time being, Sherlock and I went to his flat. While I waited in the living room, Sherlock went to speak to Mrs. Hudson.

Soon after Sherlock returned, John and Mary poked their heads out of their room to introduce themselves, asking how the date went. Sherlock introduced me as a childhood friend who'd be staying with him a while, and who would be accompanying him to the wedding.

I would've been hurt by just being called a friend, but he then pulled me to his side and held me, kissing my cheek.

It was late, so John and Mary went back to bed. Sherlock took me back to his own room.


	6. Unfamiliar Territory

Sherlock locked the door behind us as we entered the bedroom.

We didn't change or anything (I'd forgotten my bag in the living room, anyway), just rested on the bed, talking. Rain began to pour outside the windows. Then Sherlock caressed my face and kissed me again.

Sherlock started to move to remove my shirt, and then hesitated. "Do you mind?" he asked. "Is this moving too quickly?"

"No, I, uh... I've been saving myself. For you."

"Even though we'd lost contact for so long?"

I told him, "I've only ever loved you, Sherlock. I was just too scared to tell you. We'd been friends so long, and I didn't want to ruin things."

He pulled me in closer, kissing me hard.

Our first time was wonderful.

Sherlock and I gently explored each other's bodies, just touching each other's unclothed skin. He peppered my cheeks with a flurry of quick kisses.

And then he rolled me onto my back. I gasped as I felt him inside of me that first time. I moaned with pleasure as Sherlock repeatedly did so, as gently as he'd touched me earlier.

When he'd finished, Sherlock collapsed back onto the bed next to me.

He pressed his forehead to mine. "I've been in love with you since we were boys, too, William," he whispered.

We kissed and talked until we fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, I was momentarily confused by my surroundings. When I looked over at Sherlock, I smiled to myself, remembering the night before.

Sherlock shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his back. I scooted towards him, resting my head on his bare chest. The steady th-thump of his heart relaxed me, lulling me back to sleep.

I woke again an hour later when I felt Sherlock running his fingers through my hair. I moved back up to see his face. He kissed me tenderly.

Smiling contently, he said, "Morning, love."


	7. A Few Weeks

The next three weeks leading up to the wedding were heaven.

Helping Sherlock and John with their last few cases before the wedding, and with last-minute plans, waking up in Sherlock's arms after blissful nights of sex (though not quite all of the nights, due to late-running work on some of the cases)...

And then it was the day of John and Mary's wedding.

I swear, had I not been there, the one bridesmaid, Janine, would've tried to make a move on Sherlock.

During Sherlock's best man speech at the reception, it was obvious how close Sherlock had grown with John, the first few years after they met, and the few months leading up to when Sherlock and I got together.

I couldn't help but think, why did we let ourselves drift apart for so long? Has Sherlock been lying to me about how he feels about me? Will I ever him have write a loving speech like that about me?

A few days later, John and Mary left for their honeymoon. There was a lull in cases. Since Sherlock and I had the flat to ourselves a few days, Sherlock wanted to try to spice things up in the bedroom to keep himself from a boredom-related drug relapse.

For the first time, I was unsure if I wanted to have sex with him.

When Sherlock asked me what was wrong, I sat down on the living room couch and told him, "It's just... the other night, at the wedding reception. Your best man speech, and the waltz you wrote for John and Mary's dance... Sure, in the years we'd lost contact, I'd guess you'd been lonely, and John's a great guy, but..."

Sherlock sat down next to me and cut me off with a kiss. "Hey," he started. "I know it looks like I've never been that great with emotions, but I'm not stupid. Please don't be jealous. John's a great friend, and, sure, he's a good help on my cases, but he's not you. He never will be. You and I have been friends forever. I'm in love with you, not John."

He kissed me again, then brushed away the tears that I hadn't realized were starting down my cheeks. He pulled me close to him, and I couldn't keep from sobbing. Sherlock let me cry a while, then he gently lifted my head from his shoulder and kissed me deeply.

"Dammit, Sherlock, I love you so much," I breathed.

That night, instead of having sex, Sherlock pulled out his laptop and pulled up ridiculous videos on YouTube to show me. Before we started watching, he'd bundled me up in a blanket and gave me a cup of hot cocoa (because he's always known I must be the only person in London who hates tea). He kissed me on the cheek and said, "Look at me! What would John say? What would Mrs. Hudson say? Love is making me soft."

"No, I rather like it," I said. "And you always were more heart than brain, no matter what you try to tell people."

For the rest of the honeymoon, Sherlock disregarded whatever cases came in. Instead, he spent the time taking me to all his favorite places in London. Not necessarily the ones where he and John had important moments in their cases, like they did during John's stag night, but places around the city that Sherlock genuinely liked.


	8. Mystery Man

The day before John and Mary returned to Baker Street, I got an odd phone call. After staying with Sherlock for a few months, and given how he'd gotten me to our first date, I was starting to get used to odd things like that.

It first bothered me because Sherlock and I were about to go on one of our dates.

Then it bothered me when I realized it was Sherlock's brother, and he was likely trying to draw me out somewhere to test me, like he'd once done with John.

"Dammit, Mycroft," I said. "Don't go pulling one of your security tests on me! You've known me for how long? Yes, I've been shagging your brother the last few months. No, it's none of your business. Fuck off."

I hung up on him. Sherlock found my end of the conversation hilarious. It ended up being one of our best dates.


	9. A Surprise

A week after John and Mary returned, Sherlock set up a double date at Angelo's.

The day of the date, Sherlock was acting really strangely. I mean, for Sherlock. And I mean for the time he was around the flat.

He was gone most of the afternoon. And when he did show up again, shortly before we were set to head over to the restaurant, he ran to our room to get as nicely dressed as our first date.

It didn't take Sherlock's observational skills to know that, between Sherlock's odd behavior and the fact that Sherlock had apparently called ahead and had our table and meal ready for us, something big was going to happen.

I just didn't expect it to be that Sherlock wanted John and Mary to be there when he proposed to me.

Sherlock and I had known each other for so long, and though we hadn't been a couple very long, I was more than ready to share my life with him forever.


End file.
